


In the Light of Day

by Jeanie205



Category: The 100
Genre: Bellarke, Canon Universe, Canon compliant through Season 6, F/M, begins immediately after Season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeanie205/pseuds/Jeanie205
Summary: After everything she’s had to go through to defeat the Primes, Clarke is exhausted.  But her rest is interrupted when an unexpected person asks for her help in keeping Bellamy from throwing himself into danger.  Can she stop him?This story begins just after that Bellarke sunrise embrace and takes place over a two-day period.  It’s canon compliant through the end of Season 6.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 36
Kudos: 126





	In the Light of Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first (and probably only) post-Season 6 canon story. I hope you’ll forgive that it’s a little long for a one-shot, but the time frame is so compressed that I felt it should be posted all at once.

Clarke had taken refuge in the last place she thought anyone would be likely to come looking for her: Josephine Lightbourne’s rooms.

When the Eligius landed and they’d made their way back into Sanctum, she’d been thrilled and relieved to find Bellamy there, waiting for her. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from running straight into his arms, into the one embrace she’d known would be both comforting and reassuring.

 _We did do better,_ he’d told her, and she’d really, really wanted to believe him.

But as much she might have liked to, she couldn’t stay in the caring warmth of those arms forever, because Bellamy had other obligations. Gabriel had been frantic to get back to the Anomaly, and Bellamy had promised to go with him as soon as things in Sanctum were stable. The moment the city calmed down, Gabriel and Bellamy had headed into the forest, along with Octavia and Echo.

Clarke could only pray that the quiet continued.

Russell Lightbourne, the last remaining Prime, was now safely locked away, and Miller had arranged for round-the-clock guards. As for the other Sanctumites, those strangely complacent enablers of the Prime system, it was hard for Clarke to grasp why they _wouldn’t_ welcome a new order. A life where there were no more expendable “null” babies left in the woods to be devoured by carnivorous plants. No more murderous body-snatching to perpetuate an obscene version of immortality.

Where the vast majority would no longer toil in obscurity to keep the exalted few living in splendor.

Still, she’d learned by now that the effects of years of relentless indoctrination were sometimes impossible to root out. That often the one thing people feared the most was _change_.

So it was entirely possible that those who’d revered the Primes as gods wouldn’t see their new lives as better at all, or their new-found freedom as any sort of deliverance.

Clarke thanked the universe that this wasn’t a problem she’d have to deal with. Those pseudo-Primes, Murphy and Emori, were the ones tasked with gaining the people’s trust. And to do it they’d need to walk a fine line between retaining a link to the past and promoting a new way of thinking and a new way of life.

When she’d run into the two of them on her way through the building, Murphy had been characteristically cocky about their prospects of pulling it off. Of gaining both the respect and the control of the populace.

“What the hell, Clarke, you don’t have the only body that’s Prime material,” he’d told her, only half-joking, when she’d quietly asked how it was going. “I always knew I was a god among men...”

“Oh, please!” Clarke had grinned as Emori rolled her eyes. “Will you get over yourself? We’ve got an important job here, John. Everyone’s counting on us to find a way to convince these people that we have a right be in charge, _and then_ that they should let us... fix things. Give them a better life.”

“I really think it works best if we just keep on being gods,” Murphy insisted.

“I’m sure you do.” Emori’s lip curled, and her tone was dry as dust. “But I think we need to make a plan that moves beyond your ego. Don’t you agree, Clarke?”

Clarke had been surprised by the sudden request for her opinion. She’d never known Emori well, and their earliest interactions had been fraught with tension and distrust. But since the others had returned from the Ring, Clarke had come to respect her.

“Bellamy’s sure to have some ideas,” she said finally. “I think we might be having a meeting about it later. But for now, you’re pretty much on your own.”

“What did I just say?” Murphy smirked. “We’re in charge of this whole damn place!”

Clarke had left then with a backward wave, eager for at least a few minutes of solitude. And somehow her feet had taken her directly to Josephine’s rooms, for her the most familiar spot in the whole city.

_If bizarrely so._

It was just as she’d left it — still in shambles after Bellamy trashed it. Josephine hadn’t bothered straightening the mess, and housekeeping had been the last thing on Clarke’s mind when she’d returned from Gabriel’s hut masquerading as Josephine.

She found a place to sit by righting a small chair, grateful for her first moments of privacy since she’d had to kill her mother.

As soon as the thought popped into her head, Clarke sighed, knowing very well that that hadn’t been exactly what happened.

“It wasn’t her. It wasn’t _Mom_ ,” she muttered under her breath, reminding herself again. As she’d already done dozens of times before.

Problem was, it was in her head that she knew it wasn’t true. Understood that Abby Griffin had been dead since the second Russell mind-wiped her. That while the woman she’d floated had had her mother’s face and body, _inside_ she was Simone Lightbourne.

But in her heart, watching the shell of her beloved mother fly out the airlock, it had _felt_ true. And her actions had brought back all sorts of painful memories of her father’s death. Of Jake Griffin similarly rocketing out into the void.

Clarke closed her eyes, reminding herself yet again that as excruciatingly difficult as it had been for her, it had still been the right thing to do. The _only_ thing she could do. No choices.

_I couldn’t let them turn all the people on the Eligius into nothing more than hosts lying in cold storage, so that the Primes could commit their murders unscathed and unrepentant for centuries to come._

But then she’d barely recovered from having to float Abby’s body when... Madi!

She shuddered now as she remembered, appalled that the only way she’d been able to get through to her daughter was to threaten to take her own life. Because Madi had been so completely brainwashed by the vestiges of the murderous Sheidheda.

_And what if it hadn’t worked..._

Facing Madi with a gun to her head, Clarke had known absolutely that she didn’t really want to die. Only in the wasteland of Earth all those years ago, when she was certain she was facing a long, slow, agonizing death by dehydration and starvation, had she ever truly contemplated taking her own life.

But when there was hope? Then she desperately wanted to live, even if she was sometimes uncertain she deserved to. But she’d endured way too many hardships, had had to make far too many excruciatingly difficult decisions, not to cling to life now.

She sighed, leaning back in the chair and closing her eyes, so very thankful that it _had_ worked. That Madi _wasn’t_ lost to her. That she _hadn’t_ had to face actually pulling that trigger.

And later, it had meant so much to her that she’d had Bellamy’s support. That he’d understood everything. Reassured her that they really had done better. And this time she’d listened to him and resolved not to isolate herself again. Not to let herself drown in guilt and grief.

But now, after all that had happened, she felt unutterably tired.

Clarke tried to remember when she’d last slept. She thought perhaps... in Gabriel’s hut? After Bellamy had saved her. Yet again.

_How many times had it been now?_

This time had been different, of course. He’d never before had to bring her back from the dead. Clarke sighed softly as she remembered how Bellamy had spoken to her heart. Told her that... he needed her. And how she’d heard him. And fought hard to live.

_It all felt like a miracle._

Her heart sped up as she recalled what it had been like to wake up and find herself in Bellamy’s arms, his beloved face hovering over her. How in that moment everything she felt for him had roared through her. How she hadn’t been able to stop it.

Guilt began to seep into her bones. She’d tried so hard not to let herself think of Bellamy like that, but since he helped her overcome death it had become... impossible.

She sighed as fatigue seemed to invade her whole body. As she glanced around the room, the bed was suddenly too inviting to resist. Clarke pulled herself out of the chair, stumbling across the room to throw herself down on it. She was asleep in seconds.

XXXXXXXXXX

When she felt herself being gently shaken, Clarke didn’t know if two minutes had passed - or two hours.

“Clarke! Clarke! It’s me.”

The voice was soft yet insistent.

“Madi!” Clarke was awake in an instant. “How did you find me?”

Madi shrugged. “I knew you were tired, so it seemed logical you might be here. I’m sorry to wake you.”

“No, it’s fine,” Clarke told her, sitting up and trying to clear her head. “What is it?”

“Echo wants to talk to you.”

“Echo?” Clarke was surprised. It seemed so... unlikely. Then again if Echo was back...

“Is Bellamy okay?” She couldn’t keep the worry from her voice.

Madi shrugged again. “Seems to be. I just saw him a couple of minutes ago in the courtyard. I told him you were resting.”

Clarke nodded in relief. “Good. So... where’s Echo?”

“Here,” Echo said, appearing suddenly in the doorway. “Sorry to intrude but... I need your help.”

Clarke blinked in surprise, rising quickly from the bed and making her way across the room.

“What’s going on, Echo?”

When Echo’s eyes darted to Madi, Clarke understood immediately.

“You go ahead, Madi,” she told the girl. “I’ll catch up with you.”

Madi eyed both women warily, and Clarke wondered what was going on inside her head. But all she said was, “Don’t forget you need to eat, too, Clarke,” before scooting out the doorway.

Clarke couldn’t help her small wry smile. Of late, she’d sometimes pondered just who was mothering whom. But she had no time to contemplate her daughter’s growing maturity, because Echo began to speak the moment Madi left the room.

“I need you to talk to Bellamy,” she said in her usual direct manner.

“Talk to Bellamy about... what?”

Echo sighed, looking suddenly more distressed and unguarded than Clarke had seen her since that long-ago day when they’d all rocketed back to the Ring. Leaving Clarke behind.

“Octavia’s disappeared.”

“ _What!_ How?”

“You knew we all went back to Gabriel’s hut so he could question Octavia about the Anomaly.”

She paused briefly, only continuing when Clarke nodded.

“So... Octavia had some symbols tattooed on her back that matched writings on some sort of device in Gabriel’s hut that he found decades ago. He pushed some of the symbols on the device and...” here Echo paused, frowning, like she thought Clarke might doubt her next words.

“And?”

“The Anomaly opened up right there in Gabriel’s hut. A young woman came running out and...” her eyes narrowed in concentration as though she wanted to be sure to convey exactly what had happened next. “Octavia and the girl... _knew_ each other, _spoke_ to each other.”

Clarke’s eyes widened in surprise.

Echo sighed. “Somehow we all missed that this girl had a knife in her hand until... she stabbed Octavia.”

“Oh, my god!”

Echo nodded. “Octavia collapsed in Bellamy’s arms, and a second later, she was just... gone.“

Clarke gaped. “Gone?”

“Disappeared into some kind of... green mist.”

After all that had happened to her since she’d left the Ark, Clarke thought she should have been prepared for anything. But this? Octavia disappearing into the ether? _There_ one minute, _gone_ the next?

It was the stuff of fantasies. The dark and sinister kind.

And now Octavia, who’d finally begun to seem like herself again, was somehow caught up in that dark fantasy.

Clarke gasped as that thought was quickly followed by another.

“Bellamy!” she said, her voice distraught. “He _just_ got Octavia back. They finally ironed out their differences...”

She paused, peering at Echo uncertainly. “He probably told you...”

Echo shook her head. “No, he hasn’t said anything to me about Octavia, but I figured it out from... how they were with each other. Octavia wasn’t filled with bitter hostility and Bellamy wasn’t angry.”

Clarke nodded. “Yes. Somehow they found the words to heal the rift. Make things right between them.”

Her hands began to twist in agitation.

“And now she’s gone? Bellamy must be devastated. And sick with worry.”

She had a sudden thought.

“So this... this other person who came out of the Anomaly... she must know something...”

“Hope. Her name is Hope. And she’s... Diyoza’s daughter.”

Clarke blinked in shock. “How is that possible?”

Echo shrugged. “I don’t know, and right now I don’t care. And, yes. Bellamy did talk to her. And,” she sighed, “that’s the problem.”

Clarke frowned. “What is?”

“Hope told Bellamy that Octavia was forced to go back to... wherever Hope came from. That she didn’t know if there was any way to get Octavia back here. And that if Bellamy needed more answers... he’d have to go into the Anomaly himself.”

Clarke gaped. “Go into...”

“And that’s what he’s planning to do. Go after Octavia.”

“ _What!_ No, he can’t do that! It’s much too dangerous. Didn’t you tell him? After everything he’s been through...”

“Of course I did! I told him all that over and over. But he just kept telling me I didn’t understand. That he had to get Octavia back, or at least find out what happened to her.”

“Oh, god, no!” Waves of anxiety began to course through Clarke.

“Which is why,” Echo said desperately, “you have to talk to him. Make him see he can’t do this.”

Clarke stared at Echo, her heart hammering with worry. “But you’ve already tried that...”

“Clarke!” Echo interrupted, biting off her name harshly. “Please... let’s not pretend.”

“Pretend?”

“Pretend that anything I say to Bellamy will have a tenth the weight of hearing those same words from you.”

“Echo...”

“I know how it is with you and Bellamy, Clarke. How you feel about him. And,” she sighed, “how he feels about you. At first, up on the Ring, I didn’t understand. And back then, we all thought... you were dead. But after everything that’s happened since we came back... how could I not know? Not _see_?”

“Echo, I promise you that Bellamy has never done anything to... betray your trust. Not by so much as a word...”

But Echo was as direct as ever.

“It doesn’t matter what he hasn’t done or hasn’t said. I... know what’s in his heart.”

Her eyes flickered shut for just an instant.

“I’ve already had this conversation with Bellamy, Clarke. When I couldn’t get him to reconsider his plan, in desperation, I... reminded him he’d have to leave you behind.”

Clarke gave a tiny gasp as Echo’s lips curled up into a wry smile.

“Yeah, that was the only thing I said that even gave him pause. Made him reconsider, if only for an instant.” She shrugged. “And that’s when I knew for sure. And... he knew I knew. And tried to say... he was sorry...”

“ _Echo_...” Guilt rushed through Clarke when she saw distress momentarily displace Echo’s normally impassive expression.

“It’s... no one’s fault, Clarke.” Echo expelled a breath. “It all began long before I really knew Bellamy. But now you see why I _know_ that you have to be the one to talk to him. To talk him out of it.”

“Where is he?” Clarke said, taking only an instant to decide to do exactly as Echo asked. To drop the pretense that she didn’t care desperately about Bellamy. And that there wasn’t a very good possibility that he felt the same.

“Last I saw of him he was talking with Miller and some of the others about the best way to keep things quiet here in Sanctum.”

The best way would be for him to stay, she thought, but of course it was pointless to state the obvious.

“Okay,” Clarke said, “I’ll find him. And... do my best to talk him out of it.”

She’d already reached the doorway when Echo spoke again.

“Clarke?”

Clarke turned, brows raised. “Yes?”

“I care very much about Bellamy’s safety. No matter... who he loves.”

Clarke sighed, nodded.

She understood that sentiment perfectly.

XXXXXXXXXX

In the end, she didn’t have to look very hard or very far. Bellamy was just coming into the main building as Clarke was leaving it.

They both stopped in their tracks, staring at one another for a moment, until finally Clarke spoke.

“Bellamy, I’m so sorry about Octavia. I can’t even imagine how you must feel.”

But then her fear got the better of her, and she couldn’t seem to help the accusatory tone of her next words.

“So were you just gonna leave without even _telling_ me?”

“Of course not! I was... just coming to find you...”

“To tell me about this hare-brained scheme of yours.”

Bellamy sighed, glancing around, then reached for her arm.

“Can we take a walk or something? I’d rather not discuss this in the middle of a public hallway.”

Clarke gave a quick nod, allowing herself to be led out of the building, across the square, and down the steps, until they were moving along one of the long pathways that led to the forest. Neither spoke, and they walked side by side in silence until they reached the relative privacy afforded by the tall bushes just inside the tree line.

“Let’s sit,” Bellamy said, pointing to a heavy log that was directly in their path.

Clarke took in her surroundings as she lowered herself next to him.

“The last time we were here together,” she reminded him, “you were dragging me through the forest.”

“Clarke! I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“Don’t be stupid, Bellamy! You _saved_ me. You know damn well I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

“I... had to,” he said, gazing at her earnestly. “You know that.”

“Yeah, I know” she said softly, grabbing at his hand. “And now I’m trying to save you. From doing something foolhardy and dangerous.”

He sighed. “I really _was_ just coming to tell you. But... how did you find out?”

“Echo told me.”

Bellamy frowned in surprise. “Echo?”

“Yes. She told me about what happened to Octavia and what you were planning.” Clarke paused, hesitating. Her voice softened as she plucked up her courage. “She also told me about her conversation with you... about me.”

Bellamy’s shoulders tensed and he looked away. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

“She had to, Bellamy. Because I wanted to know why she thought I’d be the one to talk you out of this... mad plan.”

Bellamy sighed heavily, his eyes closing briefly before he finally turned to look at her.

“ _Clarke_...” His voice was laced with unhappiness.

“Is it true? That the one thing you were most upset about was... leaving me?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, helplessly.

“Then don’t go!” she told him, squeezing his hand. “Don’t leave me! Not after everything we went through. Not after you brought me back from the dead. You said... I _heard_ you say... that you needed me. And now I’m _right here._ ”

Bellamy expelled a harsh breath.

“How can I make you understand? The last time I got separated from Octavia, look what happened to her! What she became. I just... I can’t live with myself if I let her down like that again. Not now, when she’s finally my sister again. When things finally feel right between us.”

“I thought you said she wasn’t your responsibility anymore.” Clarke was beginning to feel a sort of quiet desperation. “Isn’t that what you told me?”

“She isn’t! Not like that. This isn’t me needing to watch over her every second. This is a brother worried about a sister that he loves. Who needs to find out what the hell happened to her. So I can either bring her back or... at least make sure she’s okay. That... would be enough.”

Clarke’s eyes stung as she felt him already beginning to slip away, even as she continued to try to persuade him.

“And what about you? What if you find out she’s in a good place, somewhere she wants to stay, how do you know you’ll be able to get back here? To us. To... me.”

She paused, swallowing around the lump that had begun to form in her throat. Working hard not to let the tears she could feel just behind her eyelids slide down her cheeks.

“Six years, Bellamy.” Her voice cracked softly as she anticipated the loneliness and longing his departure would surely bring. “Six years I waited for you to come back. So afraid to hope, but also... too terrified to let myself think there was any possibility I _wouldn’t_ see you again. And then every minute since you returned has been filled with pain and danger, and... and terrible misunderstandings! And now, when things could be... better, you want to go and leave again.”

Bellamy leaped from the log and began to pace around, as though the wealth of emotion he was feeling at that moment was somehow too great for his body to contain. Clarke could see the effort it took to pull himself together. When he finally stilled, gazing down at her with sad eyes, his voice was laced with pain.

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I haven’t thought about everything I could be giving up? I want to stay here... with you... more than anything! But finding out what’s happened to Octavia is... I know in my gut that I have to do it because it’s the right thing to do.”

And Clarke was silent then, because... what could she say to that? This was the essential Bellamy. The man who saw what he felt was the right course and wouldn’t be swayed from it, no matter how much it might hurt him.

_This was the Bellamy she’d fallen in love with._

She had no more words, no more arguments.

Clarke sighed, rising to her feet.

“We should be getting back,” she said softly, “before the others start to worry.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy said, and this time he was the one to lock their hands together, “I know how unfair this is...”

“Bellamy...”

“No, please, let me finish. It’s unfair because this is _my_ responsibility. Finding Octavia, making sure she’s okay, that’s on me. But being separated again means that we’re _both_ making a sacrifice. And I’m so sorry.”

He paused, sighing.

“If things were different, I’d... ask you to help me. But I know you can’t do that. Because you have your own responsibilities, just like I have mine.”

_Yes, of course. She had Madi. A daughter who was most dearly loved. And who needed her._

Clarke sighed. “It’s pointless to talk about it any longer, Bellamy. I... hate that you’re leaving but I do understand.”

“Good,” he nodded, but looked no happier than she felt.

They made their way back through the fields and into the city, walking slowly this time, hand in hand. And with every step Clarke was painfully aware that they might never get the chance to do this again.

When they reached the bottom of the steps, she stopped abruptly. And for a hundred heartbeats they stood there, inches apart, gazing at each other softly while behind them the suns faded into twilight.

Then she asked the one question she’d so far carefully avoided.

“When are you planning to leave?”

“Tomorrow just after sunrise. Gabriel calculated that’d be the best time to be able to follow Octavia through the Anomaly.”

Clarke felt her heart clench. “So soon? I thought we’d have... a few days at least.”

He shook his head.

“The sooner I leave, the better my chances of finding my sister. And,” he gave her his best lopsided smile, “I’m afraid if I stick around too long, stay too long... here with you, I’ll lose my courage.”

“Never,” she assured him, her soft voice brimming with conviction. “You’re the most courageous person I know.”

His half-smile was rueful. “Well, then... maybe I should say my _resolve_. Besides, the sooner I leave, the sooner I get back. To... everyone.”

Clarke nodded, determined to be supportive, but suddenly uncertain if at that moment she could bear to hear him say one more word.

So when he squeezed her hands and said her name...

“ _Clarke_...”

...she couldn’t help but stop him cold.

“No more for tonight, Bellamy. Please. But... I’ll see you tomorrow before you leave,” she added quickly. “I promise.”

“All right,” he nodded, raising her hands to his mouth, his lips just grazing the tips of her fingers. Clarke took a quick shallow breath as sensation rioted through her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.

As they climbed the steps to the square, she wondered how she would ever find the courage to see him off without breaking down completely.

XXXXXXXXXX

She didn’t sleep well. Not that she’d really expected to.

Despite nearly dropping from fatigue, Clarke managed only short fitful periods of slumber interspersed with long stretches of tossing and turning. When her brain sought to understand why it was that after all she and Bellamy had endured, this could be happening to them again.

She remembered how hard it had been when Bellamy and the others returned from the Ring. After yearning for him for six long years, Clarke had found herself on the outside looking in. It seemed like the others had become a family unit, and she and Madi were just... not a part of it.

Worse still, it felt like Bellamy no longer cared about her.

She’d been wrong, of course. She understood that now. But at the time those feelings of exclusion and disregard had been painful and demoralizing, and Clarke knew that in some ways they’d overwhelmed her good sense and colored many of her actions. Some of those actions she knew she’d spend a lifetime regretting.

But Bellamy had forgiven her! Had accepted her back into his life and his heart. And after he’d saved her from the Primes, Clarke had vowed that she wouldn’t be separated from him. He’d told her he needed her and she promised herself she wasn’t letting anything come between them ever again.

And now, just when she’d learned that maybe she owned just as much of his heart as he did hers, he was leaving her! Going to a place she couldn’t follow. A place too dangerous and unknown to risk the life of her dearly-loved daughter.

She glanced now at Madi’s still form as she slept on the other side of the bed, and felt the familiar rush of motherly love. Madi may not have grown inside her body but her heart didn’t seem to know the difference.

Clarke slipped quietly from the bed, glancing out the window at the still, dark night. There were no clocks in the room, but some elemental instinct told her that daybreak was not far off. She dressed quickly, making her way through the labyrinth of corridors to the outer doors and along the pathway to the bench.

Where she’d told Bellamy she’d meet him shortly before dawn.

The others had all said their goodbyes the night before. Clarke had watched from across the room as one after another of their comrades slung their arms around Bellamy and wished him luck in his quest to recover Octavia. She’d caught his eye once or twice and had had to look away from the intensity she saw there, even as he prepared to leave her.

It had been excruciating to have him look at her like that when she knew he’d be gone from her life in a matter of hours. Perhaps... for good. She’d even thought that maybe she shouldn’t see him off at all. That maybe she should just leave things as they’d been after their talk.

But in the end Clarke wasn’t strong enough to pass up even a few more minutes with Bellamy, no matter how painful.

So here she was. Waiting.

He arrived so suddenly that she heard his sharp intake of breath before she even knew he was there. A dark shadow materializing in the faint light of approaching dawn.

“I was afraid you might not come,” he said quietly as he slid onto the seat beside her.

“I... did think about it,” she admitted, committing once again to total honestly in their dealings with one another.

Bellamy nodded. “I get it. You’re... probably at least a little pissed off at me...”

“No, Bellamy, no!” That was the last thing she wanted him to think. “I’m not mad at you. Not really. It’s just... it’s hard. You’re right here next to me, nothing is threatening us, and yet in a few minutes you’ll be gone.”

“Clarke,” he said earnestly, turning his body towards her, “you must know I wouldn’t leave you if I thought I had any choice about it.”

She gave him a wry smile as she recalled another conversation. One they’d had a lifetime ago.

“Are we back to the oxymorons, then? It’s your _only choice_?”

Bellamy huffed a laugh, his lopsided smile coming into view.

“Sometimes it does seem like our lives keep spiraling around, doesn’t it? Reaching the same damn points over and over. But this time I _am_ coming back, Clarke. I promise.”

“Bellamy, you know you can’t promise me that...”

“I can! Just as soon as I figure out what’s happened to Octavia, I’ll find a way to get back here. And in the meantime, Gabriel has some theories about setting up communication while I’m in the Anomaly.”

Clarke shrugged. “But they’re still just theories...”

“Jesus, Clarke! It’s not like you to give up. You’re the woman who found a way to talk to me even though someone else had taken over her body.“

She smiled softly. “Yeah, and you’re the man who found a way to save me even when my heart’d stopped beating.”

He shrugged off her praise, just like he always did.

“So you agree that for us, for you and me, sometimes it seems like... anything’s possible.”

She thought he probably didn’t expect a response to that, but in any case his attention shifted just then, and he glanced up at the sky with a frown.

“Shit! It’s getting lighter. And I need to get to Gabriel’s hut before full sunrise.”

Clarke drew in a heavy breath, feeling the wetness begin to gather along her eyelids.

And of course Bellamy noticed her glassy eyes.

“ _Clarke_ ,” he whispered, and she could see his distress.

“It’s fine, Bellamy,” she said, forcing the words out. “I know you have to leave. Just like I know you’ll find Octavia.”

She rose determinedly from the bench. “You should go now before you miss your window.”

He nodded, rising with a heavy sigh.

They stared at one another for a moment and then he reached out, running one finger along her cheek. The lightest, tenderest of touches.

Clarke’s breath hitched, but she worked hard at maintaining control.

“Go ahead, Bellamy. I know you need to leave. It’s okay.”

Bellamy stared at her for the length of two more heartbeats before he finally dropped his hand from her face, gave a resigned nod, and turned away.

But he’d taken no more than three steps when he was back, grabbing at her hands, gazing at her imploringly.

“Clarke. Can’t I even... kiss you goodbye?”

Her heart jumped into her throat.

“I...” Clarke sighed, “it’s already going to be so _hard_ ,” she whispered. “Maybe we shouldn’t...”

But he was shaking his head.

“That’s the wrong way to look at it... at least for me. Twice now I’ve thought I lost you forever. And _both_ times I regretted not letting you know how much I cared. And... never getting to feel what it was like to kiss you. So, please. If you care about me at all...”

Clarke groaned. “You know how much I care, Bellamy, how much I want that, too...”

“Thank god,” he said fervently, grasping at her waist to pull her to him, bending his head, and sliding his lips across hers.

The kiss was electric from the very first touch. Clarke wound her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him, twisting and turning, reveling in how wonderful it felt to finally be this close to Bellamy. And he responded in kind, his hands stroking firmly up and down her body.

But she knew there was a danger, too. No matter how much they may have wanted each other, they couldn’t afford to let themselves get carried away.

_Because Bellamy had to leave._

She forced herself to pull away, then glanced up to see him gazing down at her with awe. And desire.

_And chagrin._

“I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been all this time,” he said, breathing hard and shaking his head. “Maybe if I’d just kissed you like that a long time ago, if I’d known how it’d make me feel, I could’ve saved us both a lot of pain. And so much wasted time.”

Clarke couldn’t help her small rueful grin.

“Same,” she said, shrugging. “But maybe we weren’t ready then. And... none of that matters now anyway because you’ve gotta go. Please, Bellamy. I don’t want to be the reason why you failed to find Octavia.”

He nodded, bending down to kiss her briefly, sweetly. One last time.

“You could never be that, Clarke. One way or another, you’re the reason behind every good thing I’ve ever accomplished. And I’m gonna take you with me this time, too. Inside my head. And in my heart.”

And then he was gone, descending swiftly down the stairs, striding hurriedly up the path.

From the top of the steps, Clarke watched Bellamy recede into the distance until he was no more than a blot on the horizon. It seemed to her that he turned then for one last lingering look, but of course she couldn’t be sure.

Then he disappeared, fading into the waning night, swallowed up by the forest.

Bellamy was gone. And Clarke was alone.

XXXXXXXXXX

Bellamy’s kiss left a glow inside Clarke that stayed with her all the way back into the building, down the shadowy hallways, and into her silent room.

And for the first minute after she dropped into the chair in the corner.

Then she remembered that the kiss they’d just shared was not only their first kiss but might very well be their _last_. The thought hit her hard, and she dissolved into sudden tears, fear and worry drowning out every other emotion in her heart.

Mindful of Madi still asleep across the room, Clarke leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes, trying her best to keep her sobbing under control. She only became aware that she hadn’t succeeded when a hand on her arm startled her into opening her eyes.

“Clarke, what’s wrong?” Madi was crouched beside her on the floor.

“Madi! I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.”

“And leave you here crying in the dark? I don’t think so.”

“There’s... nothing you can do...”

“It’s Bellamy, isn’t it? You’re dressed because you went out to see him off.”

Clarke nodded slowly, seeing no reason to keep it from her. “Yes. He’s gone now.”

Madi was silent for a few moments, but then she shrugged and asked, “So... why didn’t you go with him? I’ve been wondering since yesterday why you aren’t helping him look for Octavia.”

Clarke gaped at her. “What are you talking about? You know I can’t leave here.”

“Why not?” The challenge came quickly.

Clark frowned, perplexed. “Because of _you_ , Madi.”

“I _knew_ you were gonna say that! But, Clarke, it’s not true. You don’t need to stay here for me...”

“Of _course_ I do,” Clarke protested. “You’re my child. And I love you very much...”

“I know that! But you don’t have to watch over me every second. I’m not six years old anymore. I’m thirteen. Only a few years younger than you were when you went into solitary on the Ark. And I’ve already had to fight a war back on Earth and then survive Sheidheda...”

Clarke shuddered, aghast.

“My god, Madi! I know you’re not a little kid anymore, but please, you don’t need to remind me of all the things you’ve had to endure, things no child should _ever_ have to go through. And after all that, you think I’d just abandon you? When I know you’re nowhere near old enough to be on your own?”

“But that’s just it! I _wouldn’t_ be on my own. It’s not just the two of us anymore, Clarke, like it was all those years on Earth. Now I’ve got Gaia and Indra and Echo. Even Murphy and the others from the Ark. You know they’d all look out for me...”

Clarke couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Madi...”

But Madi talked right over her.

“Didn’t you once tell me that from the very beginning problems only got solved when you and Bellamy worked on them together? That otherwise, all your plans seemed to fail?”

“Maybe...” Clarke muttered, but Madi wasn’t finished.

“Well, I don’t want _this one_ to fail! I really want Bellamy to find Octavia, and he’s going to have the best chance of doing that if you’re with him. And besides...”

Madi paused.

“Besides... what?” Clarke was almost afraid to ask.

Madi gave her a small smile and a smaller shrug.

“You and Bellamy... you just... you should be together. He saved you when everyone else was sure it wasn’t possible because he just wouldn’t give up. And... Clarke, don’t forget, I watched you every day for six years, talking to him on that radio. Back then I was too little to understand what that meant. But I understand now and I don’t want you to have to go through it again.”

As she listened to Madi, Clarke was more and more astonished. A lot of what Madi was saying was true, and they both knew it, but still...

“But... wouldn’t you miss me if I wasn’t here, Madi? I know I’d miss you terribly.”

“Of _course_ I would. But at least I wouldn’t have to watch you being sick with worry. Or... or pining.”

Clarke felt her face heating up.

“I don’t know if I’d call it pining...”

“ _Clarke_.”

Madi almost sounded... annoyed.

“Come _on_ ,” she said. “I may be only thirteen, but I’m pretty sure I know what love is. And a lot of it is about needing someone. You need Bellamy, and right now I’m pretty sure he needs you a lot more than I do.”

Clarke felt the seconds tick by as she struggled for a response.

“It’s... probably too late, anyway,” she said finally, and was astounded to hear her own words.

_Was she really considering leaving?_

“It’s _not_ too late. Not if you hurry. Not if you leave _right this minute._ You’re already dressed, so just get up and... go!”

“Madi...”

But the girl had jumped up from the floor and was tugging on her arm.

Clarke found herself rising from the chair, suddenly galvanized into action. She couldn’t believe she was really going to do this.

When Madi threw her arms around her, pulling her in for a quick hug, Clarke nestled her daughter in her arms, breathing in her sweet Madi-scent.

But Madi pulled back quickly.

“You have to leave right now, Clarke...”

“Promise me you’ll run to Gaia’s room as soon as I’m gone. Promise me now or I won’t leave.”

 _“I promise_ ,” Madi said, exasperation creasing her brow. “Now just... go!”

Clarke bent swiftly, kissing her daughter’s cheek, just as she had a thousand times before. Questioning if she was doing the right thing before she’d even left the room.

But she knew that somehow, without her even being aware of it, the decision had already been made.

“I love you, Madi,” she said, feeling the emotion course through her. “And... thank you for this.”

Madi smiled. “I love you, too, Clarke. Tell Bellamy I said to take good care of you.”

Clarke huffed a laugh. “I’ll pass on your instructions.”

And then her feet were taking her out of the room and down the hallway. The further she got from Madi, the faster she ran, until by the time she left the building she was racing across the courtyard and down the steps, trying not to stumble in her haste.

But Clarke knew she had to hurry. How terrible would it be if, after Madi had made such a sacrifice, she was too late after all?

XXXXXXXXXX

Clarke’s feet were flying by the time she reached the pathway through the fields, her pounding heart - _and the ever-lightening skies -_ a constant reminder that all her haste might yet be in vain.

_Too late... too late... too late._

But she couldn’t _think_ like that. Couldn’t give up.

She entered the forest at the same spot where she and Bellamy had talked the day before, her legs nearly tripping over the log on which they’d sat. She maneuvered deftly around it, moving on into the forest proper.

Soon, she was surrounded by nothing but trees and underbrush, and as she ran, Clarke was struck by a sudden fear that she’d forget the way, take a wrong turn. That she’d end up wandering around, searching for the right path, wasting precious time when she had none at all to spare.

But somehow, that didn’t happen. Somehow, she seemed to know every tree, every bush, and every twig in those woods as though she’d been running through them her whole life.

She hadn’t, of course. _But Josephine had._

Hurrying along a well-trodden path, she suddenly realized that she’d reached the spot where Josephine had told Bellamy that by dragging her away he’d endangered everyone else he cared about. Clarke remembered hearing those words and being stricken with guilt.

She thanked the universe that Josephine had been wrong. That letting Bellamy know she was still alive hadn’t ended up harming any of the others.

The pathway soon ended, and she unhesitatingly turned to the left. And _there... yes!_ Just up ahead was the cave where the Children of Gabriel had chained them up. Where Josephine had tried to gain Bellamy’s sympathy by whining to him about how long Gabriel had been trying to kill her.

And Clarke couldn’t resist tweaking her about it.

_Boo hoo._

That’s when Josephine had figured out about the Morse Code. And when Bellamy had figured out that Clarke could hear them.

He’d sent her a message.

_I won’t let you die._

That determined promise had kept Clarke going as she battled Josephine for control of her body. Until the very end, when she’d almost given up. And then more of Bellamy’s words... _I need you_... had given her the strength she needed for that one final blow.

She flew past the cave, recalling how terribly hard it had been to leave Bellamy there, still chained up. How he’d insisted that she go. _Save_ _herself_. But at least she’d been able to slip him the key.

Clarke’s anxiety heightened when she noted that full sunrise was now rapidly approaching, so she was relieved to see that she had now reached the bunker where Jade had caught up with them. Josephine had taken back her body by then, and Clarke had been desperately afraid that it was all over. That they’d run out of time and out of moves.

That Bellamy would be forced to give up on her.

So she could hardly believe it when he’d shown up on that bike! Clarke still remembered Josephine’s sardonic words when she’d seen it was Bellamy.

 _Because of_ course _it is._

And Josephine had been right. It always _was_ Bellamy who saved Clarke, time and time again.

 _Thank you,_ she’d told him that long-ago day outside the gates of Polis. _For keeping me alive._

But words alone could never be enough. Not now, not after he’d literally brought her back from the dead. Clarke was determined that _she_ was going to be the one helping now. Maybe even the one _saving_.

Although she didn’t try to fool herself that that was _only_ reason she was racing through the forest. That it was merely some kind of... payback for all the times he’d saved her. She knew she was following Bellamy into the dangerous unknown because being by his side was worth any kind of risk.

She was traveling mostly uphill now, her legs beginning to ache with the pace she’d set for herself, her lungs screaming for relief. But she got a second wind when she saw it in the distance. That weird pyramid of jumbled electronic devices. The things that Gabriel told them had been “caught” by the Anomaly.

It was enough to push her forward, groaning with the effort, until finally Gabriel’s hut came into view. But she couldn’t allow herself to stop then, or even to slow down. Not until she‘d made it there. Until she was inside the hut.

_Not until she’d found Bellamy._

Moments later she charged through the doorway, chest heaving, breath coming in short gasps. Her heart gave a leap when she glimpsed the back of a dark-haired man sitting at the table, but when he looked up, she saw that of course it wasn’t Bellamy.

“Clarke?” Gabriel’s face showed his surprise. “What are you doing...”

“Bellamy! Has he left already? Am I too late?”

She had neither the time nor the patience for Gabriel’s questions. Not when so much was at stake.

 _And then she heard them._ Heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs. When Bellamy’s head emerged at the top of the steps, Clarke gasped with relief. And when he finally reached her side, she flung herself at him.

Bellamy’s arms closed around her, but his words were tense with concern.

“Clarke! I heard your voice. What’s wrong? Why’re you here?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured him quickly, still nearly breathless. “I’m here because I’m coming with you.”

She saw the momentary spark of joy in his face... that quickly faded to disbelief.

“But... what about Madi? You can’t leave her when everything about the Anomaly is so uncertain. And... Christ, Clarke! You haven’t even had time to properly mourn Abby. I know how hard that must have hit you. I can’t ask you to do this...”

“Dammit, Bellamy! You’re not _asking_ me. I’m _choosing_ to go with you.”

Clarke sighed. She’d already spent many painful hours grieving for Abby.

“And as for my mother, everything I went through...everything _she_ went through... yes, it was horrible and it’s been really hard to accept. But it’s not going to be any easier to deal with if I’m so worried about you I can hardly think straight.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy groaned, closing his eyes in frustration.

“No... listen, Bellamy. Remember what my mother told us before _praimfaya_? When we left to pick up Raven from the island? She said... _take care of each other_. And so... that’s what I’m doing.”

She held his gaze, adding softly, “And you know what I think Mom’d tell me today. If she could. If she was here. She’d say... _follow your heart_. And I’m doing that, too.”

For an instant hope glimmered in his eyes, then quickly shut down and he shook his head.

“But... what about Madi?”

Clarke huffed a quiet laugh. “ _She’s_ the reason I’m here. She dragged me out of a chair and booted me out of the room.”

“ _What?”_

She smiled at his look of confusion. “Yep. Told me she had other people who’d look out for her. That you needed me more than she did. That she was sick of my... pining. Of course,” she added, her face heating as she moved on quickly, “she also sent along instructions for you to take care of me.”

That brought a shake of his head and a quiet laugh from Bellamy. “Sounds exactly like her.”

“So you see,” Clarke said earnestly, “There’s really no reason for me not to come along.”

For a moment Bellamy stared at her wordlessly, and then his hands reached out to cup her face.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered, his voice husky, and suddenly he was kissing her.

And Clarke was kissing him back, somehow completely forgetting that they really didn’t have time for this.

_And that they weren’t alone._

She pulled back, flushing, when Gabriel conspicuously cleared his throat.

“It’s good you’re here, Clarke. I think the two of you together stand a better chance of finding Octavia than if Bellamy was on his own. But if you don’t leave within a few minutes, all my calculations will be for nothing.”

“Right,” Bellamy said, holding tightly to Clarke’s hand. “Did you manage to work out the communication coordinates?”

Gabriel nodded. “I’ve entered them into this device,” he said, passing Bellamy a small black box. “But now that Clarke’s here, we have another problem...”

Clarke frowned. “You just said it’d be better with both of us...”

“Yes, but... we don’t know anything about how the Anomaly works. You could enter together, and still be flung to very different places... or times... or universes. There’s no way to be sure.”

Bellamy frowned. “But what if we hold into each other? Wouldn’t that work?”

Gabriel shrugged. “The forces inside that thing could still rip you apart.”

“So we need to be... tethered,” Clarke said, thinking out loud. “Attached. Bound together.”

Bellamy squeezed her hand. “I thought we already were,” he said softly.

She smiled at him. “I was thinking of something a little more... physical, Bellamy. Like... a rope. Or a belt.”

Gabriel’s eyes lit suddenly and he hurried out of the hut, to return seconds later carrying two very long belts with what looked like ordinary buckles at the ends.

“I think these might work,” he said. “I made them a long time ago to try to secure that pile of junk out there.“

He frowned, considering. “I think they’ll work best if you face each other.”

Bellamy and Clarke wrapped their arms around each other, and soon one of the belts was buckled securely around their torsos, binding their bodies together. The other, Gabriel fashioned into a tether, linking Clarke’s right wrist with Bellamy’s left.

“I don’t know if they’ll hold,” he said, “but we’re out of time and out of options.”

“It’ll work because it has to,” Bellamy said. “We just have to trust in the fates.”

Clarke agreed, her smile wry. “If we hadn’t believed that, we’d never have gotten this far.”

Gabriel nodded slowly. “I... admire your optimism. I’m going down now to enter the code. As soon as the Anomaly opens up here, don’t hesitate. This may be your only chance.”

Then he was gone, leaving Clarke and Bellamy wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, awaiting their fate.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Bellamy asked again.

Clarke nodded, her face pressed against the crook of his neck.

“This is who we are to each other, Bellamy. I finally figured that out. I go where you go.”

A moment later there came a sudden hissing noise, and Gabriel shouted, “Now!”

Clarke might have heard about the green mist, but she never could have conceived what the Anomaly actually looked like until it opened up right in front of her. The sheer power of the massive flow of energy.

“You ready?” Bellamy shouted over the noise of the vortex.

Clarke nodded.

“Together,” she said.

“Together,” he agreed, shuffling them both sideways until they were abruptly pulled into the void.

Just at first, Clarke had to close her eyes against the blinding light, and it felt to her like they were floating. But soon enough darkness enveloped them, and she held tightly onto Bellamy as they were buffeted from all directions. She could feel him pressing her into him as he shouted in her ear.

“Hang on!”

And then... _nothingness_.

She came to when she hit the ground with a solid thwack, relieved beyond measure to find that the tether had worked. That she and Bellamy hadn’t been separated during their wild ride through the whirlwind.

“Are you okay?” Bellamy asked, peering at her intently.

“Yeah... I think so.”

Clarke glanced around, struck by the strange _familiarity_ of the open landscape, even though she knew it was wholly unknown to her.

“Do you have any idea where we are?”

He shook his head. “Not a clue. Except... it feels like I’ve been here before.”

She nodded, understanding completely.

They quickly freed themselves from their bonds, and then Clarke asked, “Now what?”

Bellamy shrugged, taking in his surroundings.

“I... can’t be certain, but I think maybe that path over there...”

Clarke nodded, grabbing his hand and turning in that direction.

“Clarke, wait!”

She stilled, turning back towards him. “Not that way after all?”

“No, that’s not it. I just... I wondered if you were sorry now that you came along for the ride.”

“No,” she said quickly.

“Are you sure?”

Clarke smiled. “You keep asking me that, Bellamy, and my answer is always the same.” She paused, reaching up to stroke a finger along his jaw. “And no matter how many times you ask in the future, that answer isn’t going to change.”

“But we know fuck all about what might be waiting for us here, Clarke.”

Clarke sighed. “I know that. But we made it here together, and right at this moment that’s all that really matters to me.”

Bellamy nodded, smiling softly, and she hoped that meant he wouldn’t ask the question again.

Because as they turned and headed hand-in-hand towards the path, Clarke knew that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.


End file.
